


Oh, You Doll / Body Art

by JayKay (McKay)



Series: Knight Moves [15]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-03 01:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10956726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McKay/pseuds/JayKay
Summary: A humorous offshoot of the Knight Moves universe.





	1. Oh, You Doll

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2001. These are separate stories, but since there are only two, I decided to post them together.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maul discovers something interesting about the toys Anakin plays with.

"POW! Hah! Got you!"

"ZAP! No, you didn't! I blocked it with my Force shield! So there!"

"Oh, yeah? Well, I'll use my rapid fire grappling hook to pull your retractable lightsaber out of your hand!"

"But I'll use my super double-punch action to divert your grappling hook!"

Maul lowered his datapad and cocked his head, listening. He had retreated to the bedroom in order to give Anakin and his friend Vec freedom to play in the common area without an adult around to inhibit them, but he had left the door open just in case.

Rapid fire grappling hook? Double-punch action? What in the name of all the listening gods were they doing in there?

Curiosity spurred him into action, and he tossed the datapad aside and got up, edging his way down the hall so that he could see what sort of game they were playing without interrupting them. When he peered around the corner, he saw both boys kneeling in the floor, each with a small doll in hand which they appeared to be making fight. Around them were scattered other dolls of the same size, and he squinted at them. They looked strangely familiar...

To Sith hell with it, he thought. He retreated silently back down the hall, then left the bedroom again, noisily this time, to alert the boys to his mpresence. When he entered the common room, they glanced up. Anakin grinned and waved, and Vec smiled  
shyly, then they resumed their game. Maul nodded in greeting and strolled into the kitchen, using the cover of getting a glass of water to watch more closely.

"I'm gonna use my rock-em-sock-em Force power to throw you across the room!" Anakin exclaimed, and Vec frowned, then grabbed one of the dolls beside him and held it up; Maul noticed it had a bulky attachment strapped to its back.

"Well, I'm gonna use my Jedi jetpack to soar over your head and rescue the slaves!"

Maul nearly choked on his water.

Jedi jetpack?!

"What sort of toys are those?" he asked, abandoning the pretense of wanting something to drink and moving to stand near the two boys.

Anakin stared up at him, appearing surprised. "You haven't seen these?"

When Maul shook his head, Anakin held up the doll in his hand, offering it for inspection. Maul took it, surprised to see that it looked like a miniature version of Master Windu, complete with a shiny bald head and a pink lightsaber accessory.

"What is this?" he demanded.

Anakin and Vec stood up and held out other examples of the dolls, and Maul could see that all of them resembled various Jedi from the Temple.

"They're action figures," Anakin explained.

The front door slid open, and Obi-Wan walked in. Glancing over at him, Maul held out a doll that looked like Master Yoda.

"Have you seen these?" he asked, and Obi-Wan's eyes lit up as he hurried to join them.

"I've heard about them, but I've never gotten around to looking for any of them." He took the Yoda action figure and turned it over in his hands, examining the details, snickering over the attachable gimer stick. "I heard the Hazbru company wanted to make toys based on the Jedi, and the Council agreed to let them as long as most of the profits go to charity. There's supposed to be dolls of all the Council members."

As if on cue, Anakin held up mini Mace, and Obi-Wan grabbed it, laughing.

"Perfect! Who else have you got? Did they make one of me?"

"Yes..." Vec bent down and picked up a doll, offering it to Obi-Wan.

"And there's one of you, too, Master." Anakin grinned at Maul, then bent and scooped up another doll from the pile.

Maul took it and stared at the horrid little doll lying in his hand.

It was... shirtless.

Why was it shirtless?

He glanced around. None of the other dolls were shirtless. Why was his doll the only half-naked one?

Moreover, it had horns and yellow eyes, and the red and black tattoos covered not only its face but its entire chest and back as well.

"My tattoos did not cover my torso."

Obi-Wan stopped scrutinizing his own doll long enough to give his mate a once-over. "I remember. They formed a V that pointed down to your--"

"This toy is inaccurate," Maul interrupted. "I have not looked like this in over two years."

"Yeah, well, look at mine." Obi-Wan held his doll out for inspection. "I've still got short hair and the braid. What kind of statement is this supposed to be, anyway? I look like an idiot."

"At least you do not look as if you are attempting to pass a kidney stone."

"There is that."

"Actually, yours is from the villain line, Master," Anakin piped up. "They needed bad guys for the Jedi to fight, and..." He shrugged apologetically. "Well, they were running short, I guess. The only other ones are Xanatos, a couple of Hutts, Watto, and a bunch of Nemoidians."

"I am a villain."

Maul closed his fingers around the doll.

"Yeah, but you're the coolest villain," Vec added. "You come with a double-bladed lightsaber, and a training droid to spar with, and it's got both maim and kill settings!"

"What?"

"Not a real training droid," Anakin assured them quickly. "It's a fake."

"I am supposed to be comforted by that fact?" Maul clenched his hand tighter around the doll. "I believe I need to speak with these manufacturers. I am being misrepresented."

"Well, when you talk to them, ask them to do something about my face," Obi-Wan grumbled. "I look stupid."

"Um..." Vec tugged hesitantly on Maul's sleeve. "Can we have the Maul figure back, please, sir? Only we were having a battle, and you were kicking Master Windu's butt."

Maul sighed and handed back the doll. "Very well. Just promise never to put me in a Jedi jetpack."


	2. Body Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi exhibits his creative abilities. Based on elements from The Pillow Book but with a happier ending.

Maul was already in bed when Obi-Wan returned home that evening; the Council had given him and Qui-Gon their next mission, and they had spent the last few hours going over the assigment and doing some preparatory work.  
  
All was quiet in the common area as he passed through; the lights were off, and all the clutter of the day -- datachips and datapads, playthings, cups, plates, stray boots, and the like -- had been put away. Obi-Wan ghosted down the hall, pausing long enough to let the bedroom door slide open before walking in, shedding his outer robe along the way.  
  
Glancing up from his datapad, Maul nodded to him, and Obi-Wan stopped and studied him for a moment. He looked past the tempting way the sheets draped across Maul's waist, giving the illusion he was naked beneath; looked past the way Maul's skin seemed lustrous in the lamplight; looked past the fact that his mate was half-way to naked and conveniently in bed.  
  
Instead, he concentrated on the little line between Maul's eyebrows, and the downward quirk of his mouth that suggested Maul probably would not be agreeable to a seduction despite the temptation he presented.  
  
"How did your meeting with the Hazbru people go?" he asked as he sat down in the nearest chair and pulled off his boots, then unfastened his belt and draped it over the chairarm.  
  
"They were not open to suggestions."  
  
"Really? Did you use the mind trick on them?" Obi-Wan shrugged out of his tunics and tossed them over the back of the chair.  
  
"The mind trick does not work on them. Only money." Maul threw the datapad onto the bedside table and leaned back against the headboard, not quite pouting. "It appears I am their biggest selling villain. For that reason, they are not willing to consider redesigning the figure."  
  
"I'm sorry." Obi-Wan sat down on the edge of the bed next to him, running his hand up and down Maul's bare arm soothingly.  
  
Lifting his other arm, Maul brought the action figure in question flying across the room from the top of the drawer cabinet and into his hand. He gazed at it, the frown line between his eyebrows deepening.  
  
"It is not the doll itself I object to, but what it represents. These symbols," he said, tracing the swirling black lines on the doll's chest, "are replicas of those I once wore. They are not abstracts. They have meaning. Evil. Hatred. Greed. Lust for power. Ruthlessness. Mercilessness. They were symbolic images of what I was meant to represent."  
  
"I didn't know..."  
  
Obi-Wan took the doll from his hand, gazing at it with a new, less pleasant perspective. There was little they could do if the Hazbru company wouldn't budge on their stance about the doll. At least the credits it generated in sales were going in large part to charity. In that sense, Maul's past was serving a greater good.  
  
But that didn't make his mate any more pleased about its existence, he thought ruefully.  
  
Suddenly, inspiration struck, and a slow, pleased smile curved his lips as a Cunning Plan (tm) unfolded in his mind. There might not be anything he could do about Hazbru, but he could certainly help Maul. 

* * *

  
"What is that?"  
  
Maul regarded the package Obi-Wan was holding with almost as much trepidation as he regarded the wicked smile wreathing Obi-Wan's lips.  
  
"This," Obi-Wan said, a hint of smugness lacing his voice, "is a present for you."  
  
He set the package on the bedside table and opened it, pulling out a folded drop cloth, which he unfurled and spread on the floor near their bed. Maul simply watched and wondered what was going on. Ever since Obi-Wan returned home that evening, he had obviously been pleased and excited about something, although he had said nothing to reveal why. He had waited until the evening meal and activities were done, waited until Anakin had gone to bed, waited until he and Maul were alone in their room. Only then did he pull the package out of its hiding place.  
  
Obi-Wan glanced up at Maul, a devilish twinkle in his blue-green eyes. "Take your robe and tunics off. Boots, too, if you want to be comfortable."  
  
Maul cocked his eyebrow, but said nothing. Instead, he complied with Obi-Wan's request and stripped himself to the waist, then sat down on the bed to pull off his boots.  
  
"And now?"  
  
Obi-Wan had unpacked the parcel and was placing a small jar, a handful of different-sized paintbrushes on the drop sheet, and some small cloths, and at the question, he glanced up and gestured for Maul to join him on the floor.  
  
"Sit facing me, please," he instructed. "And get comfortable. You may be here a while."  
  
"Very well." Maul sat cross-legged across from Obi-Wan, resting his hands on his knees and waiting for whatever was to occur next.  
Obi-Wan opened the jar, and Maul caught an acrid whiff of paint; sure enough, a moment later, Obi-Wan used the handle of one of the brushes to stir the paint, then wiped it off with one of the cloths, leaving a smear of black on the pristine white fabric. Tossing the cloth aside, he sorted through the brushes until he found the one he wanted: a small brush, used for fine detail. Scooting closer to Maul, he dipped the brush into the paint, but before he could touch it to Maul's face, Maul leaned back, moving out of reach.  
  
"Would you care to explain what you are doing and why?" Maul asked, regarding the brush warily.  
  
"It's simple." Obi-Wan lowered the brush and smiled at him, a warm smile full of affection, no hint of teasing. "I'm going to repaint you."  
  
"Repaint me?"  
  
Nodding, Obi-Wan leaned forward with the brush again, and this time, Maul let him. He felt the first touch of paint on his skin, cold, wet, a little thick and slimy, but it warmed quickly.  
  
"Mm-hhm. I won't be using symbols, like Sidious did," he explained with a little chagrin. "I didn't want to take the time to do the kind of research that would require. You know how much I love doing research," he added with a wink.  
  
"As much as I love attending theatrical performances."  
  
"Exactly. So..." He trailed off, his brow furrowing in concentration as he directed the brush across Maul's forehead. "So I'm writing instead. I'm going to cover you in words that are the exact opposite of what those symbols meant."  
  
He sat back and scrutinized his first effort, then gave a satisfied nod. "I've just written 'wisdom'," he said, then smoothed the brush down Maul's temple. "And here..." He replenished the paint and swirled the brush around Maul's left cheek. "I'm writing 'light'."  
  
Maul sat still beneath the light, tickling sensation the feel of the paint and the coarse bristles of the brush evoked on his skin. It felt similar to Obi-Wan's hair when it was long enough to brush against him as they made love, and he repressed a shiver at the evocative thought.  
  
Obi-Wan picked up a larger brush, dunked it in the paint, and squished it down the length of Maul's nose, then sat back and grinned at him. "That's not writing, that's just for camoflage."  
  
Maul gave him a long-suffering look, but said nothing.  
  
"I've written 'Jedi' here." Obi-Wan moved closer after he finished another word with a flourish, and blew on the paint to make it dry faster. Maul did shiver then, at the whisper of warm breath across his right cheek. "But these..." He feathered a kiss at the corner of Maul's lips. "These, I'll paint without a brush."  
  
Maul eagerly met the hot, demanding kiss; without moving, without touching, they held each other captive, ruthless taking of lips and tongue followed by pliant surrender in an endless cycle. When they broke apart at last, breathless and panting, Maul's lips were not the only ones that had been sucked and bitten to a darker hue.  
  
His eyes darkened to smoky blue-grey, Obi-Wan retrieved his paintbrush and slid it down the column of Maul's throat, then began to write across Maul's shoulder and down his arm.  
  
"I'm writing 'strength' in every language I know."  
  
He moved to sit beside Maul, close enough to cradle Maul's left arm against his chest to keep it steady as he worked. The wetness sliding against the sensitive underside of his forearm heightened Maul's arousal, and he found himself mesmerized by smooth movement of the brush and the flow of the paint as the letters bloomed on his skin.  
  
Then he switched sides and began to write on Maul's right arm, and Maul watched him repeat the word "peace" in the same languages he had used on the other arm.  
  
Once he had covered Maul's arms, Obi-Wan shifted to sit facing him again, refreshed his paint, and began to write across Maul's chest, and the swirl of bristles around his nipple coaxed a soft gasp from Maul.  
  
"'Serenity'," Obi-Wan whispered, continuing to paint. "'Compassion'." Another liquid caress along his abdomen. "And here, 'love'." A sworling of letters over Maul's heart.  
  
With that, he sat back on his heels and surveyed his work, tilting his head as he regarded the results with a critical eye.  
  
"I think that's done it," he said at last, but Maul shook his head.  
"You must sign your work."  
  
"All right." Obi-Wan switched to a wider brush and moved to sit behind Maul. "There's a word I forgot, anyway."  
  
Maul tried not to flinch at the first tickling touch of the brush between his shoulderblades, and Obi-Wan wrote a short word in broad, sweeping strokes.  
  
"'Mine'." He leaned forward and whispered the word in Maul's ear, then reached for a slimmer brush. Another few quick swipes of paint across the back of Maul's neck, and he was finished. "Come on, have a look."  
  
Rising slowly to his feet, Maul walked over to the full-length mirror mounted on the wall and stood before it, taking in the strange sight he presented even to himself. Obi-Wan stood behind him, peering over his shoulder, smiling a little shyly.  
  
"I'm not much of an artist," he said, sounding apologetic and perhaps a little embarrassed.  
  
Maul looked at the collage of words, black marks of paint covering his upper body; he looked almost as strange and alien as he had when the tattoos had covered his face, neck and upper torso. Jumbled together as they were, the words were barely legible, and they looked like some bizarre form of pictograph language.  
  
He had traded one set of symbols for another, but this adornment meant far more to him, crude and awkward as it was.  
  
One word stood out clearly from all the rest: "love." He caught Obi-Wan's hand, brought the paint-stained fingers to his lips briefly, then pressed the palm over the word -- over his heart -- holding it there. His smile growing wider and more confident, Obi-Wan rested his chin on Maul's shoulder as they stood leaning against one another and gazing at the reflection in the mirror.

  
  
-End- 


End file.
